A Better Believer
by sparozina
Summary: One lonely night, after her last chance of becoming a mother failed, Scully invited Mulder into her bed… (post Per Manum flashbacks)


"Never give up on a miracle," I tell her. I don't really know where that came from. This isn't a time to talk about miracles, not with the woman who just lost her last chance of carrying a child.

But I haven't told her before. When it mattered. When there still was a chance.

I left her to figure it out herself. I let her make the decisions, pull the strings, dream, pray, hope and await… Alone.

It's how she always wanted it, to face everything alone, and I've respected that. Maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe, just maybe, I should have wanted it as much as she did, willed it to come to life when she couldn't…

Now, while she is crying in my arms, my heart is aching for the child I didn't want. Didn't need.

They say you don't know what you have until you lose it. However, in this case, I had nothing. I gave her the worthless part of me, the sticky mess that men have no use for, yet women have the power to make miracles with.

Not my woman though. It's just another thing that was taken away from her.

Maybe men are expected to do more than jerk off in a cup.

Much more.

It's so like me to realize it when it's too late. I didn't do anything. I didn't believe in her miracle. I didn't even want it. I never considered it _our_ miracle. The thought didn't even cross my mind. A part of me almost resented the idea. I wanted my partner by my side, not at home with a baby.

I said yes mainly because I didn't want her to ask somebody else. That, and the fact that I can't say no to her.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, and her tears turn to sobs. It's becoming harder to hold her, she's losing her balance and literally falling apart in my arms.

I want that child so badly now, because I'm an asshole who wants only what he can't have.

It would've been my baby… My baby… My baby… My baby… I didn't save my baby, just like I didn't save my sister.

"Mulder…" she is back on her feet all of a sudden, taking a step back to wipe my tears, making me aware that I'm crying. Damn, how did that happen?

"I'll be fine," she is trying to assure me, but it's painfully obvious that she doesn't believe her own words. "It was a long shot anyway, but I had to at least try… It's probably for the best… I have a risky job, crazy work hours, no partner, no stability…"

"You have a partner," I remind her. My hand seeks her shoulder for my own support, as much as hers. A weak smile pushes back my tears, as I remind her, as I remind myself, that we are together in this. From the start and until the end.

"You know what I mean," she says tiredly.

"I know," I confirm. "And none of it matters. You'd be a wonderful mother."

"As you said," she nods. "It doesn't matter. We'll never know."

Hundreds of options run through my head for a second: ova donation, surrogacy, adoption… Miracle…

"Would you allow me to…?" I try to ask. "I mean… Would the baby know…?"

She chuckles. As sad and pathetic as it sounds, she actually chuckles. "I don't think anything could keep you away… Even if I wanted to."

"But it wouldn't be…" I'm babbling now. "I wasn't… I mean, when you asked me… You just needed the… Um… Not as if…"

I have no idea what I'm trying to say. She apparently does.

"Mulder, Emily wasn't yours," she reminds me.

I know what she's trying to say. I fought for Emily just as much as she did, and I would do the same for her baby if she went with anonymous donor. Biologically or not, I was always a part of the picture.

"I…" she opens her mouth to say something else, but changes her mind and looks at the floor, as if she suddenly became embarrassed. "It's late."

I know what that means. I overstayed my welcome. I gave her my seed, I gave her my comfort, and now there's nothing more I can do for her. She needs to rest, and heal. On her own.

"I'll call you tomorrow," I say, grabbing my coat. But she doesn't let me wear it. With a shaky hand, she reaches and takes it from me, hugs it to her chest and buries her face in it.

"I can stay," I assure her. If that wasn't a desperate attempt to prevent me from leaving, I don't know what would be.

"Scully," I say when she doesn't respond. "What's wrong?"

Silly question, I know, but she is acting so out-of-character that I'm beginning to worry.

I take a step forward with the intent to hug her again, but she takes a step back, keeping a small distance between us.

"I know I already asked for too much from you," she finally speaks, but doesn't look at me. "But I have another request."

"What is it?" I ask, even though I would much rather just say yes, whatever it is that she wants. If she asks me to drive to some nursery, steal the first baby I find and bring it to her, fake the birth certificate and send them to Bosnia to live happily ever after, I'd do it in the blink of an eye. I owe her a miracle, even if it includes a few crimes.

But what she asks is a lot crazier than my imagination.

"Share a bed with me," she says, finally looking me in the eyes. Not just my eyes, she is looking straight into my soul, my past and future lives, my whole universe…

"You mean…"

"I mean," she sighs. "I'm tired of being violated in unspeakable ways, probed with all kinds of instruments and examined by one doctor after another… It's been a long time since I… since I've felt like a woman. I can hardly remember how a warm touch on a bare skin feels."

"Scully…" I can't recognize my own voice. Words become stuck in my throat.

"I've never felt more lonely," she gasps. "All I'm asking for is one night. No obligations."

She looks at me with the cutest puppy eyes I've ever seen and her gaze confirms her words. She isn't expecting me to love her afterwards, but she also isn't expecting me not to love her. There are no obligations for this to be anything more than a one-night stand, but also no obligations for it to be just a one-night stand. It's as if this night is the only thing we have left, and the world will end tomorrow, but if for some reason it doesn't, then we will have time to figure out the meaning.

As much as she believes that there is no tomorrow, I suspect there will be.

"You aren't thinking clearly," I tell her gently. "I can't risk losing you… Over this."

"You might lose me if you refuse," she says almost detached, phlegmatically. "Mulder, I'm freezing inside and you are the only one I trust… with my body."

That. How does a man say no to that? I once flew to Antarctica to literally melt the ice around her and bring her back to life. If all that ice is inside her now and there's something I can do about it… How could I not?

"Oh god," her rational mind is waking up, bringing the embarrassment along. She buries her head in her hands. "This is so inappropriate. I'm sorry."

"No, it's not," I assure her, gently pulling down her hands. They are cold. "It's me. I'm yours."

She won't look at me, so I press my lips on her forehead and keep them there, still holding her hands. Giving her time. I don't want to say yes to her request. I don't want to do this for her. I want to do it _with_ her.

She tries to pull away, but it's half-heartedly so I don't let her. After a few deep breaths, she relaxes and waits for my next move. When it doesn't come, she whispers: "What are you thinking?"

I replace my lips with my forehead, so that I can respond and stay attached to her at the same time. "I'm wondering why I never made the same request."

That makes her chuckle.

The air is not so tense anymore, but it is still full of awkwardness. We've never done this before and we don't know what we are doing. The timing is wrong, the circumstance far from ideal. Yet it doesn't feel like we have a choice. We both need this.

She slides her head to my chest and asks me to hold her, but I push her away.

"Wait," I say. I quickly take off my shirt, throw it on the floor, and pull her onto my naked torso. She exhales heavily and relaxes.

It's a new feeling, her ear on my heart, her breath gently blowing through my chest hair, her finger playing with my nipple… It's like a dream after a nightmare, a bitter-sweet feeling of a loved one's first touch, brought on by the series of failures…

"I don't have any condoms," a doctor in her notices. "Though I suppose we have no use for those…"

"Don't worry, I brought a few," I say. She raises her head with a huge question mark on her face and I shake my head no with a teasing smile. She smiles back. My last condom expired in 1995. She knows that, because she was the one to throw it away.

"Mulder," she's serious again. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Are you?"

A nod. She again can't look at me, so she steps back and busies herself with taking off her coat. I watch her take it to the hanger, then come back to pick up my shirt and neatly fold it over the armchair. I wonder if her need for everything to be neat and clean is the reason she doesn't get laid. I wonder what my excuse is.

"Scully," I approach her from the back. "Leave it."

She sighs and lets me take off her shirt, then unbutton her bra. I toss them both across the room, waiting for a reprimand, but it doesn't come. Instead, she bends over the armchair and asks: "Is this how you want it?"

"No. I want to take you to bed. If that's all right?"

"Yeah. Sure."

As we walk to her bedroom and take off the rest of our clothes in silence, I can't shake the feeling that we're doing it wrong. There is no passion between us, no romance, we haven't even kissed. Yet suddenly, she is lying naked on the bed, waiting for me to join her and light the fire on the frozen ground, with a frozen match…

"I know it's not much," she looks down her body. "But it's all I have. If it helps you to turn the lights off…"

If it helps? Jesus! How undesirable does she thinks she is? Just because my body is not responding yet… Well, I'm exhausted, confused and nervous.

"No," I say. "I want to look at you. If, um, that's ok?"

"Sure," she smiles. "Come here."

I climb over her and settle on my side, with my head propped on my elbow. I just look at her for a while, trying to get inside her head before getting into her body. I wonder what she likes, what she expects, what I should explore first.

She's watching me the same, maybe having similar thoughts, maybe not. Who knows? She always keeps me guessing and I wouldn't have it any other way.

I love her eyes. There's much more love-making in her gaze than in all the sex in the world.

"Hi," I smile.

"Hi," she smiles back.

For a moment, there is no evil in the world, no aliens, no conspiracies, no experiments, no failed IVFs… Just Scully and me.

I gather the courage to place my hand on her belly. In response, her whole body shudders.

"Are you ok?" I ask.

"Yeah," she confirms, closing her eyes. "I've told you, Mulder. It's been a long time…"

"I'm here now," I whisper. I let my hand travel to her breast, and my lips to her face, kissing away the tears under her eyes. She's incredibly soft and fragile underneath me.

I explore her face with my lips, finally reaching her mouth. She lets me in and pulls me closer with both hands, clutching me like a dehydrated person who just found a bottle of fresh, cold water. She's just as thirsty as I am hungry. Or is it the other way around? I don't know. There isn't me and her anymore. We are one being now.

A being that wants to be whole again.

"Dana," I whisper into her ear.

"Fox," she moans in return, reaching between my legs, and it's my time to shiver. Why is she still so damn cold?

"Mulder," I correct her.

"I wasn't talking to you," she responds.

Clever.

I stuck my tongue into her mouth again, to prevent her from giggling at me. She doesn't complain. Her hands trail back to my head, and she's pulling me down and kissing me like her life depends on it, but as soon as we take a break her eyes are filled with tears again.

"I feel so dead inside," she whispers.

"You're not," I assure her. I lock my eyes with hers and let my hand slowly wander down, searching for her heat. She nods and spreads her legs, waiting for my finger to find its way through the perfectly groomed little bush, into the slick, but not entirely wet opening.

She gasps as I probe her. I read a little discomfort and lots of desire in her eyes.

"I want you," I tell her, burying my finger in a little further. Then a lot further. Then she asks me to stop.

"I want Fox, Mulder," she instructs me. My name has never sounded so sexy.

I climb on top of her and position myself between her legs. Fox peeks at her entrance, greedy and impatient, but she is too short and I can't look her in the eyes in this position.

"I think you should be on top," I suggest, but she firmly disagrees.

"No! I need to feel your weight. Please, Fox…"

If it's Fox she wants, she's gonna get him. After all, Fox wants her too.

But I want her more. At the last moment, the doubt creeps in and I can't perform. I see her tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, a week later, a month later, years later… Resenting me for taking advantage of her when she was vulnerable the most. My body fights me on this, needing her more than the air for breathing, but I am determined to suffocate rather than hurt her.

She senses my doubts.

"It's ok, Mulder," she tells me. "I love you."

That is the last thing I expect to hear from her. Those words that I am not allowed to say, the words she never said before. Never to me.

"You love me, too," she adds, reading my thoughts. "It's ok. This is right."

And I believe her. When Scully says something that can't be proved, examined and qualified, something outside of the realms of science, you have to believe her.

I have to.

My armor falls apart, all my guard goes down, my mind turns off and I dive in, joining our bodies in a delicious moment of… pain apparently. She stiffens underneath me, and I pause, letting her adjust.

"Don't stop," she tells me impatiently. "I can handle it. Please…"

I trust a bit deeper and hear her gasp and demand: "Harder."

I do it harder, but not really hard. I don't think she's ready, no matter what she says. I set a nice, enjoyable pace. I want this to be pretty, but she wants it to be rough.

"Please," she's gasping. "Don't make me beg."

"God, Scully…" I move a bit faster, a bit harder, quickly building the intensity until she cries out and bites my shoulder. I guess we don't want her neighbors to hear the modest, uptight doctor Scully doing the wild thing with a colleague.

Her nails dig deep into my back and it's the best, most motivating pain in the world. I never thought sex with Scully would feel like this. It was something I never imagined at all, fantasized yes, but never had a picture of how it would actually feel. She is so out of my league.

Or maybe she is the only one in my league…

"Love… you…" I gasp out of control, but she doesn't hold it against me.

"I know… I know…," she repeats, quickly returning to her previous mantra. "Faster, Mulder… Harder… Oh… God…"

I guess we don't care about her neighbors anymore.

It's just us.

Just us.

Us.

I send her to the moon and beyond, and amongst the intense fireworks of feelings and wild explosions of sensations, I give her a second donation, straight from the source, right into her womb.

This.

This is how you make a baby.

In this moment, I believe in miracles. I believe that there has to be one ovum that survived, one that hid when the rest were taken, one that endured the chemo, stayed out of Dr. Parenti's radar, and patiently waited for my guys to fertilize it.

Scully may have lost all hope, but that's ok, because I've found mine, right here, inside her. And we both know I'm a much better believer.

I roll off her, searching for her eyes again. She's dozing off already, but she smiles at me and lazily asks: "What do you think of me now?"

"I think you are amazing," I tell her honestly. "And I think I'm the luckiest son of a bitch alive."

She smiles again and closes her eyes. "What about us?"

"I won't let anything stand between us," I promise her. She doesn't respond, so I start to pull the covers over her, to tuck her in. "Are you cold?"

"Not anymore," she mumbles. "I feel like a… woman… again. Good night… Fox."

Fox… Another miracle. She just made me love my hideous name. Nothing is impossible tonight.

I just got her pregnant.

There's no doubt about that in my mind. It will probably take her a month or two to figure it out, so for now it will have to be my secret. I did my part, and now I just have to make sure I don't get abducted by aliens. Or something. She'll do the rest, but I have to be by her side, no matter in which direction she decides to take our relationship next.

If this was our only time, I'll still die happy, knowing that it happened.

She stirs, and I get up to turn off the lights, hoping it will help her sleep better. It doesn't help me, though. I'm suddenly restless, and Fox is, well, wide awake.

"She said good night, Fox," I tell him. "Not get up."

"Really, Mulder?" Scully responds. "How are you not spent?"

"I thought you were sleeping," I say apologetically, embarrassed.

"I thought the same for Fox," she smiles, still half asleep.

I sigh, trying to be quiet. I fail quickly. The distance between us is unbearable.

"Scully?"

"Um… What, Mulder?"

"Can I hold you?"

"Um… Of course…"

She turns around and I spoon her, settling against her back. I close my eyes, but all I see are little Emily-s, calling my daddy… It is too much to keep for myself and my resolve to be rational about this is rapidly absolving.

"Nine months from now, we'll have our miracle," I tell her against my better judgement.

But she doesn't hear me anymore, she is fast asleep and even gently snoring in my arms.

"A little girl," I inform her with a kiss on the hair.

I close my eyes and see a boy building towers in the sand.

"Or a boy," I clarify.

Not that it matters.

If it comes out alien, it's still gonna be ours. We can teach him to change shapes and read minds… But for the good purposes.

Our little miracle. I'll never give up on you.


End file.
